First Kiss
by Happy Sartre
Summary: When Gibby first kissed a girl, she threw up. Not because he was a bad kisser or anything-she just started choking. Okay, that doesn't really explain it either. Well, you see, it all started at Carly's pool party...


You may find this hard to believe, but I, Gibby Gibson, was not always the handsome, charismatic, and popular ladies' man that I am today. I know, hard to imagine, right? Well, you see, it was not too long ago that I was just a chubby, short, and awkward young boy. I think that stage in my life reached its apex when I got my first kiss. 'Cause when I first kissed a girl, she threw up. Embarrassing, right? Well, let me explain how it happened…

It was at the beginning of my freshman year at Ridgeway High School, and Carly was throwing a pool party on a Saturday night. It was a few days after her birthday. I was really anxious and didn't want to go, but my mom made me go. She said that I spent too much time at home with my gerbil and that I needed to make some friends. Which was totally true, but what lonely teenage boy wanted to be told that?

The first ten or fifteen minutes of the party were awful. I just kind of stood around awkwardly, holding a present with a ridiculously large bow and looking for Carly. Eventually, I found her and gave her the present.

"Oh, um, Gibby," she said, turning the present over in her hands. "Today's not my birthday."

"Well, I know, but it's your birthday _party_, right?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, this is just a regular party, you know, celebrating the success of my new webshow, iCarly. I had my birthday party last week."

"Oh," I said, deflated. _This is already turning disastrous,_ I thought. _In five minutes, I will call my mother and spend the rest of the night watching the Dingo Channel…_

Carly smiled earnestly. "But seriously, thanks anyway! This is really sweet of you." She stood there for a few moments, waiting for me to say something, but I couldn't think of anything to say. She was extremely relieved when she saw Sam and Freddie, and she beckoned them over to her.

Now, I know what you're all thinking. _Carly was your first kiss, wasn't she? _No. She wasn't. We'll get to the real girl later.

"What's Gibby doing here?" Sam asked with obvious disdain in her voice.

"I invited him, Sam," Carly said.

"Why?" she asked, giving me a funny look.

"Sam, I'm trying to be nice, okay?" Carly said.

"Yeah, there's nothing wrong with Gibby here," Freddie said, patting me on the shoulder. "Why do you have to be so mean to him?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "Why do you have to insist on showing your ugly mug around here?"

"Look, I don't know why my mom made me bring it!" Freddie said as he held up a misshapen coffee mug. "Anyway," he said, turning his attention to Carly and trying to look suave, "You know, there's a game of Spin the Bottle going on behind the water slide. Do you want—"

"No, Freddie," Carly said.

Freddie sighed. "One, day, Carly. One day…"

Even in my unhappy frame of mind, I couldn't help but feel amused by Freddie. (Oh, and I might as well confirm that Freddie wasn't my first kiss either. He and I are bros, but _just_ bros, 'mkay?)

"Hey, Spin the Bottle," Sam said. "Gibby, why don't you, I dunno, go play that and leave us alone?"

"_Sam_," Carly said. "Be nice."

"Hey, I'm just sayin'," Sam defended. "You ever even kissed a girl, Gibs?"

"No, no. Not yet." I shook my head, blushing slightly. Yes, I, Gibby Gibson, manliest of men, _blushed_. Thank god I'm not like that anymore.

"Well, then I have a dare for you," Sam said, patting my shoulder. She pulled her hand away and wiped it on Freddie's shirt. "You're going to kiss your first girl tonight, at this very party."

"Um, okay?" I said, quite uncertain. I looked around the party and spotted a tall, thin, brunette girl. "Can I kiss Tasha?" I asked, pointing to her.

Sam looked over and laughed. "Dream on! You'll get her to kiss you when Frednub and I get married."

"Hey!" Freddie said.

"Anyway," Sam said, ignoring him. "You need to pick somebody more in your league. Someone like…" Sam looked around, then her eyes lit up and she pointed to someone. "Her."

"Who?" I asked, looking around.

"_Her_," Sam said. "That chick with the orange-red hair, wearing the coverup dress."

I saw who she was talking about. The girl was sitting at a table, not talking to anybody. She was kind of chubby, but not totally unattractive. Sam could have chosen a lot worse.

"Okay, fine," I said. "But this could potentially be an emotionally scarring experience. What do I get for kissing her?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "I'll give you twenty bucks."

I nodded. "Okay. And how do I actually go about _getting_ her to kiss me?"

"I don't know; just go work your Gibby charm. Now leave!" Sam gave me a push towards the girl, and then she, Carly, and Freddie ran off.

Nowadays, the Gibby charm would have been a piece of cake. But back then… Well, I still hadn't even quite figured out _what _Gibby charm was. I knew that it would be a challenge, but I was resolved to win that chubby redhead's heart.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself. I took off my shirt, because, hey, I'm _Gibby_, that's what I do. I tossed my shirt aside and headed over to her.

"Hey," I said, deepening my voice and trying my best to look masculine and smooth. I didn't do a very good job, but hey, I was still inexperienced in the ways of picking up chicks.

"…Hi?" she said, looking at me, slightly confused. She eyed my bare chest then looked back up at me. _Yes!_ I thought. _It's working!_

"So," I said, continuing (and failing somewhat, I must admit) to act smooth. "You come here often?"

"No," she answered flatly. "I'm from Ohio. The only reason I'm here is because my cousin, Wendy, dragged me along. Unfortunately, I have no idea where she is right now."

"Oh, I know Wendy," I said, remembering the time she Grizzly-glued my underwear to my locker. "I know her _very _well."

The girl raised an eyebrow at me. "Um, okay. Didn't know she really hung out with kids like you."

"Oh, Wendy and I go _way_ back. Let me tell you about—" I tried to lean my hand against the table, but I missed (I wasn't very coordinated) and fell to the hard, concrete floor.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" the girl asked, crouching over me.

"I'm fine," I answered, my voice squeaking a little. I was about to stand up and pretend like that didn't happen, but the girl held out her hand to me. I took her hand as she helped me up. I held on just a _tiny _bit too long, hoping it might spark something. That failed; she looked uncomfortable.

"Ah man," she said, looking at my elbow. "You're bleeding!"

"Oh, it's nothing," I said, waving my hand dismissively, even though it sent a shooting pain through my arm. It really shouldn't have—it was just a scrape—but I wasn't very impervious to pain back then. Nowadays, I can walk on coals—like a monk! But that's beside the point; let's get back to the story, shall we?

"I have some Band-Aids in here," she said, rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a tiny plastic bag with…Fairly Odd-Parents Band-Aids.

"My dad picked these out, don't ask," she said. "Just take a seat and I'll put this on…"

I did as she said, trying my best not to show my hurt pride, and we started talking. She told me that she was a pianist, a violist, _and_ a flautist (whatever that is). I did a lot of talking myself up, trying to seem cooler than I actually was. I told her that I played the snare drum, and that I was _so_ good I had done my own drumming shows and sold out. I demonstrated a little air drumming for her, but only succeeded in accidently ramming my knuckles against the table edge. She laughed a little and shook her head. Honestly, I don't think she believed me, but I was _little_ Gibby back then—at least I was actually conversing with a girl!

We spent some more time talking. She told me that her mom was a scientist and her dad was an actor and writer who worked full time at Bed Bath and Yonder because he couldn't get any parts or sell any manuscripts. I took note of the disdain in her voice when she talked of her dad, and I used that to my advantage when I talked about my parents.

"My mom's pretty cool," I said. "She's a, um, a business woman. Very successful. My dad, you know, he's a bum, too. My mom divorced him, and I totally don't blame her."

The girl smirked. "I wish my mom would do that. But alas, no luck: she loves my dad." The girl shook her head and looked down. "I don't see why, though…" She looked back up. "You have any siblings?"

So, yeah, that's basically how our conversation went for the next hour or so. She was a pretty cool girl, and while she didn't seem impressed by me, she was amused at the very least. And for Little Gibby, that was _awesome_.

"You know," I said eventually, once it seemed like we had talked about everything that there was to talk about, "I'm tired of this. Let's go swimming—they're playing water volleyball over there."

The girl shook her head. "I don't really like swimming…"

"Oh, come on," I said. "You can't go to a pool party and _not swim_."

"Need I remind you that I was dragged here by my cousin?"

"Pfft, that's no excuse. Let's go!" I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the water.

Once I reached the edge, I cannon-balled into the water. It wasn't a very smart choice, considering the water was only a few feet deep, but I'm not known for making smart choices. I make _awesome_ choices.

"Come on in!" I called out to the girl, wiping water out of my eyes.

The girl sighed and shrugged her shoulders, then took off her coverup. She was wearing a one-piece suit underneath. She gingerly got into the water, and folded up her dress, putting it on the side of the pool.

"Shall we go play?" I asked, indicating the volleyball game behind me.

The girl shook her head, sinking down in the water until only her head was visible. Her coppery red hair flared out around her, creating a sort of star around her head.

"I don't like sports," she said, and then she swam off to the deep end.

I furrowed my eyebrows. This wasn't going very well. I followed after her, going as fast as my chubby little arms and legs could take me.

When we reached the end of the pool, at the deepest part, I looked up at the clock. Dang it, the party was going to be over in about half an hour, and I still had yet to kiss this girl! I was going to have to act fast.

"You know, I've never had a girlfriend before," I said, hoping to casually segue into Smoochville.

The girl looked at me, and then looked away again.

"Sometimes," she said, skimming her hands over the water, "I like to let out all the air in my lungs and sink to the bottom of the pool."

I was a bit confused. What did that have to do with anything?

"It's quite relaxing, actually," she said. "All the sounds are muffled, like there's a pillow over your ears or you're going deaf. You can feel the pressure of the water building all around you as you sink deeper and deeper. And once you hit the bottom of the pool, you look up and see the surface of the water, with the little waves rippling all across it, distorting the light and making everything unreal. It's almost like…like being under a bell jar, I guess you could say."

I was thoroughly confused now. This girl had seemed so down-to-earth before, and now here she was, waxing poetic. I didn't quite know how to respond.

"Do you want to try?" she asked, looking back at me. Her hazel eyes looked much brighter than before.

"Sure…" I said. We both exhaled, and down we sunk.

I have to say, it was rather terrifying. I had absolutely no air in my lungs, and I just felt helpless against the gravity pulling me downward. I felt slightly claustrophobic. I opened my eyes, and in the blurry water, the girl looked so serene and at peace.

I decided that was the perfect time to kiss her. It just seemed so romantic to have your first kiss underwater. So, acting almost impulsively, I kissed her.

Looking back, it was a really, really stupid choice. I caught her off guard, and so of course she gasped. Now, as you can imagine, gasping underwater doesn't work out very well. The girl started flailing around, fighting her way to the surface as fast as she could. I followed after her, starting to freak out over what I had just done.

The girl hoisted herself up over the edge of the pool, shaking as she tried to dislodge the water in her throat. Her eyes were bulging out of her head and her hands were around her throat, but she wasn't able to make so much as a cough.

"It's okay!" I said, struggling to get out of the water. "I know the Heimlich maneuver! I'll help you!" I almost got my knee over the edge of the pool, but I ended up just flopping back in.

Thankfully for the girl, a lifeguard ran over to help. He was a handsome guy, in his twenties and very fit, with shoulder-length hair pulled back in a ponytail. He leaned the girl over and hit her forcefully in the back three times. She spat out some water and began coughing violently.

"It's okay," the lifeguard said, rubbing her back gently as she wheezed and coughed up more water. He led her to a nearby table. "Just keep coughing. Get it all out."

The girl sat down. Her coughing subsided a bit, but she didn't look any better. She leaned over a conveniently placed trash can and threw up.

The girl immediately looked away. "That's—_cough cough—_disgusting."

"No, that's perfectly okay," the lifeguard said, putting a towel around her shoulders. "Sometimes too much coughing incites the gag reflex. It's perfectly normal."

The girl looked away. "Yeah, well, I'm used to it anyway."

I finally managed to hoist myself out of the pool and I hurried over to the two. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" I said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," the girl said, refusing to look at me. She pulled the towel more closely around her shoulders.

"So how'd this happen?" the lifeguard asked, concerned. "Were you tired, did you fall in, what happened?"

I blushed and opened my mouth to explain, but the girl started speaking first.

"He and I were having a contest to see how long we could hold our breath. I lost, obviously."

The lifeguard nodded understandingly. "Yeah, that's never a good idea." He patted the girl on the shoulder. "Well, I'm glad you're okay now. If you need me, I'll be by my post over there, okay?" He pointed to a spot near the water slide.

"All right," the girl said. The lifeguard patted her shoulder and walked off.

"Um…sorry about that…" I said, standing awkwardly in front of her.

The girl glanced at me, her hazel eyes looking much duller than before, then busied herself with the fraying corner of her towel. "Why'd you kiss me?"

"Well, I don't know," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "I—"

"_There_ you are!" Wendy said, walking up to the girl, and pushing me out of the way. "Where were you?"

"Where were _you?_" the girl sneered. "You and your friends ditched me."

"Pfft, sorry," Wendy said. "Sam found Mrs. Briggs car, and so we just had to go key it. Anyway, my mom's here. We gotta go."

"Okay," the girl said, getting up. "Um…bye," she said to me.

"Bye!" I said, waving vigorously. Okay, this is my chance. After nearly dying because I kissed her, this girl didn't slap me, kick me, or otherwise hurt me in any way. At that point in my life, that was basically as good as a marriage proposal. She was about to leave—this was my only chance!

"Um, so I was wondering," I said. "If maybe I could get your number, because while long distance things don't really work, we might be able—"

"Shut _up_, Gibby," Wendy said, pushing me away. She looked at the girl. "Why are you even hanging out with him?"

The girl shrugged. "Because." She waved slightly at me. "Well, bye." And then…she walked away. I would have run after her, but Wendy scared me too much.

I sat at the table, moping a bit while I waited for my own mother to come pick me up. Finally Sam and Carly decided to join me.

"What's wrong, Gibby?" Carly asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

"Did you scare that girl away?" Sam asked mockingly, mussing up my hair.

"No, she and Wendy had to leave. They're cousins," I said.

"Did ya kiss her?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," I said. Carly and Sam exchanged a look, quite surprised.

"Seriously?" Carly asked, disbelieving.

"Yeah," I answered, a bit more forcefully.

"Wow, I don't believe it," Sam said. "Okay, we need witnesses. Who was around you when it happened?"

"No one," I answered. "I kissed her underwater."

"That's so romantic!" Carly said, smiling.

Sam rolled her eyes. "A likely story. Well, Gibby," she said, taking a twenty dollar bill out of her purse. "It looks like this belongs to you."

I looked at the money, and considered not taking it. It just felt wrong to take the money…but I was broke anyway, and I kind of needed it to pay off my mom for the Persian lamp that I broke… I reached out to take the money, but Sam held it out of my reach.

"Hold up a minute," she said. "If we don't have any witnesses, then you'll have to tell me everything you know about that girl in order for me to believe that you _honest to God_ got to know her well enough to get her to kiss you. What's her name?"

I blinked. How did I never catch her name? God, I'm an idiot…

"I don't know," I said sheepishly.

Sam raised her eyebrow. "Okay, then. What school does she go to?"

I shrugged. "It never came up."

Sam shook her head. "This isn't looking good for you, buddy. Okay, last question: What's her favorite type of meat?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why would I have asked her that?"

Sam looked at me incredulously. "Dude, it's only _the _most basic conversation starter ever."

"Sam," Carly cut in, "it's the most basic conversation starter for you. Not for everyone else."

"So?" Sam asked. "He still should have asked it. So, Gibmeister, what is it?"

"I don't know," I said, raising my hands up in defeat.

"Aw, too bad," Sam said. "Looks like you don't get this bad boy." She carefully smoothed out the twenty dollar bill, folded it, and put it back in her purse. "Let's go, Carls."

Sam and Carly stood up to leave, and before Carly left, she turned to me and said, "If it makes you feel any better, I believe that you kissed her." Then she walked away.

I waited for my mom for a long time. Ten o'clock passed. Ten thirty. Eleven. Eventually the handsome lifeguard who had saved Nameless Girl took pity on me and drove me home. My house wasn't very far away, and I definitely could have walked there. I just didn't have the energy to do it. That night, I couldn't sleep, constantly plagued by images of the girl with the copper colored hair almost drowning. I couldn't stop thinking about her for months, and if I hadn't been so terrified of Wendy, then I would have asked her what her cousin's name was.

Eventually I got over her. I also soon got over my excessively awkward, low-self-esteem days and asked out Tasha. And get this—she said _yes_. Heck, we're _still_ dating, and it is _awesome_. _I'm_ awesome. My _life_ is awesome. I have friends, I don't wear stupid pink shirts anymore, and I'm a few thousand times more confident in my own skin.

Honestly, I try not to think about that girl anymore. It's rather painful, as you can imagine. But sometimes, like right now, I take the time to think back on it, if only to remind myself how much I've changed from that awkward and idiotic young boy to the rugged, handsome, and charming man that I am now.

I don't know if I'll ever see her again. But if I do, then one thing's for sure: I will find out her name.

A/N: Well, I hope that you enjoyed that! The girl in the story is going to play a major part in my next multichapter story, called …Um, well, I'm still working on the title. XD Anyway, it's a Victorious fanfic, and I hope you all will check it out! It takes place two years after this story, and you find out the girl's name. (But believe me, it's not all that exciting. XD) This was beta-read by the wonderful wittledrummergirl. :)

Anyway, reviews would be greatly appreciated! :)


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